Hunter's Legacy

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Alexander asked, not sounding sure, as he stared down at his wrapped hands, as he stood in one corner of the boxing ring.

“Of course, I’m sure, how is it not a good idea?” I asked, as I tied the laces of my tennis shoes.

“Well, for one thing, you guys are liked; so if you hurt him during this training session, you hurt yourself as well,” Natasha said, sitting on the bench that was set on the right side of the ring.

“So I won’t hit him that hard,” I shrugged, “He needs to know how to defend himself. If we’re on a hunt, his ass is grass if he gets captured.”

“Captured?” Alexander squeaked, looking wide-eyed between Natasha and me, “Who would want to capture me?”

“Probably demons,” I said, as though we were having a meaningless conversation, “You know, the creatures who possessed your girlfriend and killed your mother.”

“Camille!” Natasha’s shocked voice echoed through the gym. I knew it was a low blow, I knew it was something that he didn’t want to remember, but we were training and I was baiting him; I needed to see what made Alexander Sutton tick.

Just as I thought, his ears became red and his nostrils started flaring in anger, like a bull in a bullfight—I half expected him to use his feet to sort of paw at the ground. With a battle cry that echoed off of the four stone walls of the gym, Alexander ran forward. All I had to do was step to the side and watch as he hit the ropes, behind me, and fell flat on his back.

“Lesson one,” I said, as I crouched down next to him, “Don’t scream like that, it just makes you look bad.” I held out my hand and pulled him up when he accepted it, “Lesson two, never give your opponent your trust.” I let go of him, and swung my fist, making contact with his stomach. A searing pain erupted in my mid-section, and I doubled over. As soon as I felt it lesson, I straightened up. “Alright, take a swing at me.”

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head.

“Some of your opponents will be of the female variety,” I told him, “You need to fight or let them kill you.”

“Camille, I just don’t—” Alexander started, but I threw a punch to the jaw, hurting my own in the process. That did it. Alexander pulled his arm back and let it fly forward; there was a slight cracking sound, and I felt something warm trickling over my lower lip. Looking up, I saw Alexander sporting a bloody nose.

“Nice hit,” I complimented, as I wiped some of my own blood away with the tip of my finger.

“Thanks,” Alexander said.

We spent the next half hour in a redundant sparring match.

“I think that’s enough,” Natasha said, from the sidelines.

“Alright,” I said, groaning as I stood up. I pulled Alexander up, and we hobbled out of the ring, making our way out of the gym and to our rooms.

After showering, I made my way back to the cafeteria and loaded up a tray with as much food as it could hold, before I sat back at a table, where I was joined by Alexander and Natasha, shortly after sitting down.

“Is that all your eating?” I asked Alexander, as I looked at his tray, which consisted of a bowl of soup.

“Yeah, are you going to eat all that?” he asked, looking from my tray, to me, and back again.

“Yeah, I’m famished,” I said, picking up the spoon from my macaroni and cheese, and shoving a spoonful of it into my mouth.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Alexander asked Natasha.

“I ate before you guys got here,” she said, and I noticed that she had a bit of color in her usually pale cheeks, “By the way, Piper wants to see us, when we’re done.”

“All three of us?” I asked.

“I guess,” Natasha shrugged and picked one of the French fries off my plate. I reached for it, but she chuckled and pulled it away, before taking a bite.

After we ate, the three of us got up and headed towards Piper’s office.

The door opened and, as usual, Piper was siting there, poring over a file that was open on her desk.

“You wanted to see us?” I asked, coming into the office.

“Yeah, I—you two look like hell. What the hell happened?” Piper asked, looking between Alexander and me with a raised eyebrow, “Did you two get into a fight?”

“Something like that,” Natasha muttered.

“Sparring practice. I was trying to get Alexander ready for when he’s out in the field,” I answered.

“Yeah, that makes sense, spar with the person that you’re bound to,” Piper said, sarcastically, “It’s not like anything bad could come out of that.”

“You know about the binding?” Alexander asked.

“Yeah, I know about the binding, I’m the one that asked Edie to do it,” Piper answered.

“So, you’re the reason that I’m bound to him?” I asked, pointing an accusing finger in Alexander's direction.

“Yeah Camille, I am,” Piper answered, with finality.

“Is there any way you can make it less…potent?” Natasha asked.

“You mean weaken the bond?” Piper asked, looking at Natasha.

“I guess you could say that,” Natasha answered.

“Maybe a bit,” Piper answered, “Weaken it enough to where you two are still bonded, but it doesn’t affect you when you’re in the field?”

“Sounds right,” I answered, nodding.

“Well, I might know something,” Piper said, getting up from her desk and walking over to a door that was positioned in the far back corner of her office. It was almost like it was an invisible door; there when needed, but not there when you didn’t.

“Where did that come from?” I asked, as Piper came back to the main part of the office, her arms filled with jars of familiar-looking things.

“My personal apothecary,” Piper responded, setting the jars down and walking back towards the mysterious room. She came back with a large marble-looking bowl and a pestle, “It’s always been there; I have it warded, in case the bunker ever gets invaded. It appears when I need it, and disappears when I don’t.”

“Like the Room of Requirement in Harry Potter,” Alexander said, thoughtfully. “What? None of you have ever read it?” he asked, when we all looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“I was being taught about witchcraft,” Piper said, as she put ingredients into the bowl.

“I was being shipped off to relatives, and, at the institution, they didn’t have books like that,” I said.

“I was trying to catch and kill a vampire,” Natasha said, “What is Harry Potter anyway?”

“All done,” Piper said, just as Alexander was about to answer Natasha’s question.

“Do you still need our blood?” I asked.

“Yeah, can’t really do the spell without it,” Piper responded, handing me a little blade. I took it and swiped it across my palm, closed my fist, and squeezed a few drops of blood into the bowl. I passed it to Alexander and watched as he did the same, and then set the blade by the bowl. “Now take each other’s hand—preferably the ones that are still bleeding.” Alexander and I put our bleeding hands palm to palm, as Piper chanted some words in a different language.

“Are you sure this is going to—” I started, but was cut off when the red ropes that bound us, showed themselves still wrapped around our joined hands. The ropes of red that wrapped around our hands were thick, but, within seconds, they shrank back until they were thinner, almost as tough they were a single piece of thread. Piper added something else, spoke another witch-y word, and then there was a burst of light. When the light cleared, the ropes were no longer around our hands.

“What happened?” Alexander asked, letting go of my hand and turning his own hand over.

“Look on your wrist,” Piper said, as a way of explanation. He turned his wrist over, and his eyes widened for a minute, then his face twisted in confusion.

I looked down at the inside of my own wrist, and saw what looked like an anchor, with its rope trailing halfway up my arm.

“What is this?” I asked, looking at Piper with the same confusion that was written all over Alexander’s face.

“It’s a different take on the same spell that Edie performed,” Piper responded, as she started cleaning up the ingredients that were now strewn over her desktop, "You two are each other’s anchor. You keep each other grounded; you can individually get hurt, the other might get a bruise or two, but if one of you dies, the other will die as well.”

“Why?” Alexander asked.

“It’s just the way that the spell works,” Piper answered, shrugging, “There’s always a downfall side to doing a spell.”

“Then why do it at all?” Alexander asked, almost sounding hysterical, “If there’s always a price to pay, then we always have a choice of whether we do the spell or not, right?”

“But sometimes we have to,” Natasha said, in an even tone, “Sometimes we aren’t given a choice.”

“How long until this spell takes effect?” I asked, changing the topic, if only to get Alexander to stop whining

“It’s instantaneous,” Piper replied.

“Alright then, it’s time to get back to training,” I said, and started to pull Alexander out of the office, by the arm.

“You know, I’m pretty tired,” Alexander said, once we walked back into the gym which was, once again, empty, “I think I’m going to go and rest.”

“No, you’re not,” I said, grabbing the back of his sweatshirt as he started to walk away, “If you need rest that badly, lay on the bench. But you’re staying here.” His shoulders slumped, and I rolled my eyes as he dragged his feet over to the bench and sat down, pouting all the while.

“Maybe you should quit for now,” Natasha said, as she followed me over to the punching bag, “You two look like you went a few rounds with a steamroller; just rest for the day and pick it up again, tomorrow.”

“But then we’ll lose a day,” I said, as I wrapped up my knuckles with the tape.

“So, you lose a day, big whoop,” Natasha replied, “There’s no point in practicing anymore today, when it looks like you’ve been beaten to a pulp.”

“It’s not that bad,” I protested, and then I winced when I touched my face.

“Yeah, okay, then I guess you won’t mind going to the infirmary to get looked at,” Natasha said, with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t need to,” I denied, and then I looked over at the bench, where Alexander was laying, with his arm thrown over his face, as tough to protect his eyes from the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. I sighed and unwrapped my hands, “Let’s take him though. I don’t want it on my conscience if he drops dead in this gym.”

Both Natasha and I walked over to the bench that Alexander laid upon. Natasha shook his shoulder, and he awoke with a start, promptly falling off the other side of the bench.

“What now?” he groaned, barely lifting his head.

“We’re taking you to the infirmary,” Natasha said.

“Why?” Alexander whined, pushing his arms against the floor, which caused him to roll over onto his back.

“Because Natasha’s being nice. I, on the other hand, am more than willing to leave you here, if you don’t stop with the whiny shit and get your ass up, now,” I said, squatting down next to him. He turned his head towards me and narrowed his eyes in a glare.

“Why do you have to be so evil?” he questioned, groaning as he allowed Natasha to pull him up.

“Oh, so you think this is evil?” I said, pushing myself up, “You witnessed a demon possession and an attack, and you think I’m evil? You have a lot to learn.”

We made our way down to the infirmary, which was empty; Doc just sat there, reading a newspaper. He looked up, as we entered.

“What happened to you?” he asked, setting his newspaper down and getting up from the chair.

“It’s called sparring,” I answered, walking to the exam table, with Natasha and Alexander following me. Alexander winced and he pushed himself up onto the table.

“I know what sparring is,” Doc sneered at me as he snapped gloves on his hands and then proceeded to examine Alexander’s bruises, “My main question is, how did he get this amount of bruising just from sparring.”

“A stupid witch and her stupid spell,” I responded, wandering over to a shelf that housed different sized glass jars of different salves, powders, and tonics.

“Camille and Alexander have a binding spell on them; anything happens to Camille, the same thing will happen to Alexander and vice versa,” Natasha explained, when I had failed to elaborate on what I meant, “So, when she said they were sparring, that’s what happened.”

“I see,” Doc said, and I heard Alexander wince, “Well, nothing’s broken; I can give you something to help the cuts and bruises heal faster.”

“Okay,” Alexander said, sounding beyond tired.

“This should do it, right?” I asked, holding out a jar of periwinkle-colored powder.

“No,” Doc said, sternly, taking the jar from me and setting it aside, “That particular powder will kill him.” He walked over to the shelves, and I heard the jars clinking against each other, until finally he came back with a small jar of thick yellow-orange liquid. “Here,” he said, shoving it in my hands, “If the both of you put some of this on your cuts and bruises, they should start to heal instantly.”

I took off the lid and sniffed; I turned my head and coughed, managing to successfully suppress my gag reflex.

“This smells like a horse’s ass,” I said, coughing again and replacing the lid.

“Why come in and ask for help, if you are just going to berate me?” Doc asked, sarcastically.

“Because, don’t you know, it’s just the best part of my day,” I replied, just as sarcastically.

“We should wait until sparring again, right?” Alexander asked, sounding hopeful.

“Yes, at least wait until tomorrow,” Doc said, nodding.

“Thank you,” Natasha said, just as I opened my mouth to utter another sarcastic remark. Alexander grabbed the jar and the three of us walked out of the infirmary.

“We should go to the archives,” I said, as Alexander and Natasha made to go to the kitchen, “If he can’t fight, the least he can do is study.”

“What about the armory?” Natasha asked, “It’s all good to know physical combat, but it also comes in handy to be skilled with a weapon.”

“I’m right here,” Alexander said, waving his arm, slightly.

“But he's barely eaten today, let’s go get dinner and then we can show him the armory,” Natasha said, and I nodded in agreement, beginning to follow after her.

While Natasha sat by, Alexander and I filled our stomachs with so much food, you’d think we hadn’t eaten in quite a long while. When we were finished, we dumped our plates into a dirty dish bin, and then I led the way to the armory.

Alexander’s eyes lit up when he saw the armory; he looked awestruck, as he walked in, taking in all the weapons that hung on the walls, from bows to crossbows, to knives and swords to handguns and shotguns.

“Is this real?” he asked,in a low voice.

“It is very real,” Natasha said, going over to a case and opening it to retrieve a bow, “I told you, we hunt monsters. Why else would we have all of this?”

“To prepare for the apocalypse,” Alexander said, although he said it quietly, so I doubt that he knew I heard him.

“Are you saying that you still don’t believe that monsters truly exist?” I said, taking a seat in one of the chairs that sat at the table in the middle of the room, “After you came face-to-face with a werewolf, saw a witch perform a spell, first hand, and saw more magic today? Wow, you must be really thick.”

“What’s this?” Alexander asked, nodding towards a glass case that held bullet shell casings, arrowhead molds and small jars of different powders.

“This is how we make our specialty ammunition,” I explained, sliding open one of the glass doors and pulling out an empty shell casing, “sometimes, it takes more than an ordinary weapon to kill these monsters. So, we have things, like phoenix ash, to pour into shell casings, or mix in with the mold of an arrowhead. That way, we have the definite way to stop it, and we’re not flying blind.”

“What’s your weapon of choice?” Natasha asked, turning and looking at Alexander.

“I don’t know, I’ve never really dealt with weapons,” Alexander said, sounding slightly embarrassed.

“That’s okay, we can show you,” Natasha said, in a tone that conveyed understanding.

“We have a shooting range and a training arena,” I said, putting the shell casings and other things back into the glass case, “We can always start that training tomorrow, give you a day to rest up a bit, give you time to heal.”

“That would be great,” Alexander said, sounding relieved. As much as I wanted to continue sparring and move into weapons training, my own body was starting to scream at me that I needed to stop.

“Then, why don’t we retire for the night,” Natasha suggested. Both Alexander and I nodded, and then we left the armory.

I broke off from the two of them, when we reached my room; I said goodnight and walked into my room, closing the door behind me. I hobbled over to my bed and stopped a second, contemplating on whether or not I should take another shower. I started to move in that direction, but the muscles in my legs protested, sending bolts of pain out. It didn’t take long for me to decide against it, and I turned back around.

Without a second thought, I let myself fall onto my bed, and let exhaustion overtake me.